Hamza

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For a few days, I tried my best to avoid them. My iman was still weak at this point. I was not ready to face my fears yet. I feared seeing them would make me want to go back. And even if I did control the urge to go back, I was afraid of the questions. I was afraid they would convince me to come back. But then again, I knew I would eventually have to make myself clear.

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"Ya Allah, give me the courage and the strength that I need," I prayed silently as I walked towards them.

They smiled when they saw me.

"Our boy is here," announced one of them handing me the vape. "We were afraid you wouldn't come."

I looked straight into his eyes, confronting my greatest fears.

"This is the last time," then I looked at them. "I quit smoking. And as a friend I would advise you all to do the same."

I then dropped the vape and stomped on it. After that, things got messy: within seconds they surrounded me rolling their sleeves.

"You still have time." he looked at me. "Apologize."

When I refused, he stepped forward and grabbed me by the collar.

"This was your last chance," he whispered and then he pushed me down, before clambering over me punching on my face.

للَا يُكَلِّفُ ٱللَّهُ نَفْسًا إِلَّا وُسْعَهَا ۚ

"Allah doesn't burden a soul beyond that it can bear."

It was so reassuring to have these words echo in my mind. It was as if Allah was telling me: Just hang in there for a little longer, Hamza. Pain ends soon.

I couldn't help but smile at that thought. After all that was the best thing about this life. No pain could last forever. No matter how long and dark the night might be, the sun would rise and light up the world again. The pain would eventually stop- either they would stop beating or it would stop hurting. I couldn't help but smile.

"What are you smiling at?" he retorted, beating even harder.

And then help came. In form of one of the boy's from the same gang. He had called the staff for help. The beatings had to stop.

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